


Living in Purgatory

by Glowstar826



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dark Past, Emotional Baggage, Friendship, Gen, Hogwarts Era, Hurt Severus Snape, Hurt/Comfort, Male Friendship, Morally Ambiguous Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Severus Snape, Past, Past Tense, Past Violence, Pre-Canon (Blacklist), Protective Raymond Reddington, Purgatory, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-23 11:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30055098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glowstar826/pseuds/Glowstar826
Summary: For most of his life, Severus has been living in a state of purgatory. Being a spy, after all, requires no less. He believes that he is alone in this desolate world, and now, as his longtime mentor’s death approaches, he feels more lonely than ever before. This belief is so great that he doesn’t believe for a second that a fedora-wearing criminal can change that — until he does.
Relationships: Severus Snape & Raymond Reddington
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Look, I just wanted these two to meet. I love the complexities of both Sev and Red, and I love how compassionate these two can be. In all honesty, though, we can all agree that Red is the nicer person even though he’s also the more dangerous one. With that said, I hope you enjoy this crossover!**

Severus didn't know why he was here in this Muggle bar, drinking his stress away. He didn't know why, of all the things he could've done with his combined salary earned from being a Potions Master _and_ a Head of House, he was spending it on whiskey. He should've been back in his quarters, grading his students' essays, determining his next move in the large game of chess that he was only a little pawn in. Of course, in reality, he was probably Dumbledore's queen. He was the old man's secret weapon. But he would've been lying if he said that he didn't need a break, because God, did he need a fucking break.

Earlier that school year, Dumbledore had asked him to end his life. It was a cursed ring, he said, and the temptation to touch it had been too great. Now, he was bound by an Unbreakable Vow and an old man's dying wish.

It was almost blissful, feeling the burn of the delicious alcohol go down his throat. For once, he was in control of the pain that he experienced on a day-to-day basis. He was giving himself the pain that others normally gave to him. Whether it was physical or emotional, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he was in _control_.

Severus heard the bar stool next to him creak as another man sat down on it. Out of curiosity, he sneaked a look at the newcomer. At first glance, he had to admit that the man definitely had a sense of style. The golden watch on his wrist looked very expensive — Severus could've sworn it was a Rolex — and his face was shadowed by the black fedora he was wearing. His overcoat was black, too. Severus held back a chuckle. It seemed that he wasn't the only man out there who dressed in all-black.

Severus wondered what a man who was rich enough to afford a Rolex was doing in a dingy Irish pub in the middle of London. He certainly wasn't trying to lay low; his whole demeanor made that abundantly clear. But Severus could tell that the man was on the run from something — or someone. The way he sat was guarded and tense, as though danger would find him in any second. The man's posture, however, was angled in a way where an unassuming bystander wouldn't spare him a glance. He was hiding in plain sight.

Severus turned his head back to the area in front of him just as the man turned his own. He gripped his whiskey glass tightly as he felt the man's burning gaze, bracing himself for the inevitable chastising he'd get for watching this mysterious man so closely. The danger that surrounded the man radiated directly at the spy. It made Severus so unnerved that he made to stand up, but the man placed a strong hand on his forearm.

"You don't need to leave," the man told him calmly. His voice was deep and a bit gravelly. It was also American. "Here, I'll get another."

As Severus was somewhat forced back onto his seat, the man asked the bartender for one more glass of the whiskey that he was having as well as a glass of scotch.

"Robert is a friend, so you don't need to pay for anything — including the ones you had before," the man continued, his tone carefree. Severus felt his eyebrows rising at the sheer randomness of the situation. His mind told him to ask the man what in God's name he thought he was doing, but another stronger part of him told him to keep quiet and let things play out.

The bartender gave the man the two drinks, and the man patted him on the shoulder and said, "Thank you, my friend."

"Anything for you, Red," the bartender replied with a wink. So. This "Red" had connections.

"Red" passed Severus the whiskey as he took his scotch, and he raised his glass.

"To strangers helping strangers?" the man asked hopefully. Severus, still not sure what the point of this rich man helping him was, deigned not to and started sipping his drink.

"Red" groaned good-naturedly. "Ah, you're no fun." He lowered his glass and started sipping his own drink.

"Thank you," murmured Severus out of gratitude for the drink and in response to the man's accurate assessment. He _was_ no fun, and he wanted to keep it that way.

"I'm Raymond," the man said after a few moments, holding out his hand. Severus kept from grinding his teeth. This man's presence was beginning to get quite irksome.

"Severus," returned the spy, cautiously taking Raymond's hand and shaking it. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the shine of a gun hidden deep beneath the man's overcoat. So the man was not only running away from danger. He _was_ danger.

"What an interesting name. _Se_ -ver-us," the man sounded out. "What does it mean?" There was an eagerness to the question.

"I don't know," replied Severus, not in a mood to cater to other people's curiosities at the moment. In truth, he knew exactly what it meant. His name meant "stern." It fit nicely with his snarky personality.

"What a shame. It really is an interesting name."

Severus wished that the man would just _stop talking_ and let him drink in peace. He had already gotten him another whiskey, and he had also told him he didn't need to pay for anything. What _else_ did this man want?

"You know, I never understood British people," said Raymond. "They're always so reserved, so stoic. What's wrong with a little emotion once in a while?"

"Not all people here are reserved," Severus found himself correcting. While he greatly disliked the man's constant yammering, he disliked stereotypes even more. "My employer is a most extravagant man, wearing technicolor clothes and having a terrible weakness for sweets."

The man chortled as a reply, apparently finding the fact that Dumbledore wore bright clothes and liked sweets to be the funniest thing in the world. "What do you do?" he asked once he sobered up.

"I'm a teacher at a boarding school," said Severus. That was as close as he could get to the truth without breaching the Magical Statue of Secrecy.

"Where?"

Severus kept from threatening the man with his wand as he gritted out, "Scotland."

"Ooh, I've been to Scotland," Raymond said excitedly. "Wonderful fields and pastures. There was this one time when I was visiting that my car broke down in the middle of the road. It was so cold, my teeth chattered for _hours_. A kind old woman saw my struggle, thankfully, and offered me a place to stay while her husband fixed up the engine. They took me to a huge farm on their station wagon, pulled by two _beautiful_ black mares, and they fed me the most delicious chicken soup I had ever had in my _life_!

"During my stay, there was this odd, powerful smell that simply _permeated_ the air. It was everywhere! I smelled it in my sleep, I smelled it when I ate, and I _even_ smelled it when I was pooping! So, I decided to do a little investigation. Turns out that the woman and her husband were running a _drug_ business on the side! Can you believe it? And here I was, thinking that this lovely old couple were innocent of any wrongdoing. The good thing was that, by the time I discovered their little side hustle, the old man had fixed up my car. So, I said my goodbyes and went on my way. That was the last time I visited Scotland."

Severus had tried to cut Raymond off several times, but the man was relentless in his storytelling. He wondered why the other man didn't report the couple. The spy was well aware of the Muggle law and therefore knew selling drugs was illegal.

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Severus. He lowered his voice. "I know you have a gun. Concealed weapons aren't allowed in the pub."

"Oh, I'm _well_ aware," Raymond whispered back confidently. He was acting so much like a Gryffindor. It was sickening. "Still, doesn't mean I won't carry one. Where I operate, there _are_ no rules. Just players."

"Why didn't you report the old couple?"

"Who says I didn't?" asked Raymond with a chuckle. Then his voice turned serious. "They were selling methamphetamine, which is a poison. Of course I reported them. However, it didn't seem relevant to the story, so I didn't say it."

This man's way of recounting events was certainly strange. How he was so nonchalant about the fact that an old Scottish couple was selling meth was even stranger. But maybe it wasn't so strange. After all, Severus saw things that were _much_ worse than a couple selling meth. He saw Muggles, witches, and wizards have their throats slit and their stomachs gutted. He saw children crying for their mothers who were being raped and for their fathers who were being beaten. He didn't think anyone else could've been tasked with brewing torture potions, poisons, and killing innocent people like he was, nor did he think anyone else could understand his pain.

But.

Severus turned to the man, Raymond. At last, he saw the hardness of his eyes, which looked a lot like Lily's bright green. He saw the thin line his mouth made, signifying his pain. He lightly Legilimized him and saw bodies, vengeful killers, corrupt businessmen, and blood. So much _blood_. Blood here, blood there, blood _every-fucking-where_. Blasted heads. Pleading faces. Sorrowful apologies and meaningless ones. But they all got the same fate: death. Whether it was a quick gunshot to the head or a drawn-out suffocation, it didn't matter. An emotion screamed out to him amidst these memories.

_Betrayal_.

This man was a loner, Severus realized. He was always on the run, always elusive of any government that cared to have him. But then he saw a young black boy. A boy that Raymond had decided to save from a life that he would've died in. A boy who was getting a bloody _education_ because of this murderer who just so happened to care for the innocent.

Severus quickly exited Raymond's mind before he could get in too deep. He didn't know what to feel. Was he to feel disgusted? Fascinated? Amongst the betrayal, he felt deafening regret in this man. It was almost greater than Severus's own.

Almost.

To put it simply, Raymond was broken. Severus could sense that this man didn't like being a criminal, just like Severus didn't like being a spy. There was one difference, though. While Raymond willingly killed _many_ people in cold blood, Severus never so much as Avada Kedavra'd anyone, not even his own abusive father. He suddenly felt so sick, and it was completely different from the sickening feeling he had gotten from the man's Gryffindorish attitude. He wanted to throw up right then and there, but he forced his bile down. Now was a horrible time for the spy to make a scene.

"Hey. _Hey_!" Raymond was saying, snapping his fingers in the spy's face like he was a toddler. "You all right? Severus?"

"Y-yes," breathed Severus, though he _wasn't_ all right. He didn't know what the man would do to him if he revealed that he could read others' emotions and memories. He only noticed he was shaking when Raymond placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Why don't we take a walk outside?" Severus felt himself being coaxed out of his seat by the American man, and he vaguely heard him giving his thanks to the bartender before escorting the both of them out. Severus breathed in the fresh air as soon as it hit him. He felt calmer under the night sky.

It was at that very moment that the bile decided to come back at full force.

Severus ran as fast as he could to a nearby bush, and he dropped down, vomiting onto the wet grass. He nearly jumped and magicked Raymond away as he felt the man's hand on his back, rubbing it as the contents in his stomach flew through his mouth and burned his throat more than the alcohol did going down it.

"Drink too much, eh?" chuckled Raymond. "We've all had those days. _I've_ certainly had too many of them."

Severus wanted to whip around and slap that bastard. It was _his_ memories that made the spy sick up his dinner, yet the man had the gall to criticize his drinking habits?

The spy's next words rolled off his tongue before he had a chance to stop them.

"Well, if I hadn't seen those bloody victims of yours, then I wouldn't be here."

The rubbing stopped abruptly. Severus felt himself being roughly pulled up and slammed against the brick wall of the pub.

"Say that again for me," Raymond growled, his breath ghosting Severus's large nose. Suddenly, the friendly man was gone. In its place was the hardened, bloodstained man that the spy had seen through those awful memories.

In its place was the cold-blooded killer.

Severus breathed slowly. This was nothing he couldn't handle. This man was a Muggle. He was a very _dangerous_ Muggle nonetheless, but he was still a Muggle. He lacked the innate abilities Severus possessed, and the latter knew he'd have to use them to his advantage if he wanted to get out of this alive.

"If I hadn't seen those bloody victims of yours, then I wouldn't be here," whispered Severus, trying to stay calm.

"How do you know about what I do? Did one of my enemies send you after me?"

"No," replied Severus, shaking his head vehemently. Maybe he could get out of this without magic. "I've never been to America."

"I have enemies all over the world. That card doesn't work with me."

How was Severus to explain his knowledge about Raymond's life without breaching the Statute of Secrecy? He cursed his mouth for not being careful enough. Now he had to deal with the consequences.

"I…I know the pain you go through," Severus said to appeal to Raymond's mental turmoil. "The lives you have to end…all those _betrayals_ …. It must hurt, having so many people you trust turn their backs on you."

"You know _nothing_ about what I have to go through," Raymond spat, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed Severus harder into the bricks.

"But I do," Severus argued, his own voice starting to waver. "I see people die every day. Some of the people I see tortured are children, crying for their mothers and fathers."

"That still doesn't explain how you know about _me_ ," Raymond replied. "I take great care to keep my criminal activities a secret. I'm lucky if I'm able to set foot in a shopping mall without somebody notifying the police."

Bollocks. Severus was back to square one.

"If I told you how, you wouldn't believe me," Severus tried. God, he was _better_ than this! How was it that he could lie to Voldemort's face in his darkest hour and not lie to some Muggle criminal in his lightest?

_Maybe because you don't want to_ , his mind supplied for him, and he quickly dismissed the thought. No, he didn't need a Muggle who happened to go through a similar set of harrowing experiences as him. He was fine on his own.

"Oh, I doubt _that_ ," challenged Raymond darkly. "There isn't much that I haven't seen."

"Have you seen a man wield a wand and perform magic with it?" Severus started to squirm under Raymond's death grip, which only made the hold on him harder.

"Oh, cut the bullshit!" Raymond replied, letting out a full-bellied laugh. "You're going to tell _me_ that pulling a rabbit out of a hat somehow translates into _you_ knowing my _criminal_ _history_?"

"I am not lying," Severus countered calmly, reaching into his pocket for his wand. One stereotype was enough. Two, however, was crossing the line.

Lifting it and angling it at Raymond, he thought angrily, _Flipendo!_

Severus felt a sweet satisfaction as the other man was blasted off of him. Raymond landed on the ground with a loud _thud_ and skidded backwards, his fedora flying off of his head and landing nearby. The spy walked over to him the way he would when about to catch a student doing something wrong. He looked down smugly on the American, whose wavy brown hair was splayed around his head.

Severus showed him his hawthorn wand, pointedly ignoring Raymond's current look of awe. "This is what I mean by 'magic.' We do not pull bunnies from hats like you Muggles like to believe." He let the other man help himself up by backing away slightly. He summoned the criminal's black fedora with a Summoning Charm and handed it back to him. Then, he watched with disinterest as Raymond made a show of calmly placing the fedora back on his head and dusting himself off.

"Is that what you used to throw me off you?" inquired the criminal as he took a step towards Severus, pointing at the wand. The spy was caught unawares by the other man's sudden change in attitude. He wanted to run and Apparate back to Hogwarts at the man's childlike grin.

Realizing that Raymond was waiting for an answer, Severus replied, "Yes," in a level tone.

"Let me see that."

Before Severus knew what was happening, his wand was in Raymond's large hands, being turned over and examined from all angles. The wizard kept from snatching it back, instead letting the man scrutinize the fine woodwork.

"Interesting," murmured Raymond clinically. "Show me more." He gave the wand back to Severus.

Feeling more unnerved than he had all evening, Severus obliged and incanted, " _Lumos_."

Severus's eyes widened comically when Raymond started clapping enthusiastically.

"Despite what I said earlier," said the other man, "I really _do_ like a good magic show."

"I…"

"Do show me more!"

Eyebrows creasing, Severus nodded. He took some dry twigs and murmured, " _Incendio_."

Raymond's reaction was worse than a Muggle-born first-year.

"That's _brilliant_! Is there a way to extinguish the flame?"

" _Aguamenti_ ," Severus incanted. A spout of water shot from his wand and put out the fire.

"Wow," said Raymond breathlessly. Severus thought that maybe he had been let off the hook, but he was proven wrong when Raymond continued with a dark tone, "Tell me how this relates to you knowing about my line of work."

Severus breathed in deeply. _Stay calm_ , _stay calm_ , _stay calm_ …

Smoothing out his black jacket, the spy began to explain to the other man what Legilimency was. He told Raymond how it was an ability that was inherited and could be improved with practice, and he then told him what happened when he had direct eye contact with him.

"Me getting a glimpse of your memories was an accident," Severus ended contritely, keeping his voice as level as he could. "I never intended to see them." He thought of adding, "Please believe me," but he refused to grovel at this stranger's feet.

Raymond adjusted his fedora while he processed the information. Severus felt relief when the other man seemed to accept this as a reason.

Within this false sense of security, he didn't anticipate Raymond's next move.

"Now, tell me why a teacher at a boarding school would be seeing children tortured to death."

Severus ran a hand through his hair. How could this man be so predictable at some points and so unpredictable in others? He had already disclosed his magical ability; he couldn't disclose his spying status, too. So, he deflected the question.

"Like I said, I understand your pain. I understand that you do not _want_ to kill, but you must if you are to survive. The life you had imagined isn't the life you're currently living, is it?"

"How do you know that?" asked Raymond quietly, stepping closer to the spy. The harmless man was back, but he was still not as friendly as he had been before. "You said you only saw a few deaths."

The spy wrapped his arms around himself as the wind started to pick up in speed. Why was he trying so hard to form a connection with a man who _killed_ people? What was it about this Raymond that made Severus so drawn to him? What did this man have that his colleagues lacked? Maybe, Severus admitted to himself, he _did_ need someone who could truly understand his pain and sorrow — someone who had been to hell and back. No matter how much he wanted for it to be true, he knew that Minerva and least of all Dumbledore would be able to help him. They weren't in purgatory like he was. They didn't need to question their own moral compasses or even go against them. But maybe — _maybe_ — Raymond was in purgatory, too. And this possibility, Severus realized, was what made him drawn to the other man. Maybe this whole evening — the conversation, the drinks, and even the fight — was a sign that Severus wasn't as alone as he thought he was.

With that, Severus gave Raymond his answer.

"Because…the life I had imagined isn't the life that I am currently living, either."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **So I'm just going to disregard the entire impostor thing with Red because I really, _really_ love the idea of him being Liz's father (and I don't know how else to write him since we don't know who he really is). Also, since Red rescued a 14-year-old Dembe in 1993 and this story takes place in 1996, Dembe can't possibly be Red's driver/bodyguard at the tender age of 17. That's illegal child labor, and I don't think Red would _ever_ make such a young person work for him since he evidently does like children very much and has a _very_ clear sense of right and wrong. Now that those things are out of the way, let's continue with the story!**

The dark-haired man began to shake once more as his admission flowed through his lips. Raymond found himself striding forward to place a hand on the Brit's shoulder.

"Easy," murmured the criminal. In all honesty, he didn't know why he thought it was safe enough to divulge so much of his secret life to this stranger. Granted, the man seemed to be the type to know how to keep a secret, but still. It wasn't the first time that Raymond's intuition had failed him. So many people had betrayed him, beginning with Katarina Rostova all those years ago. Who was he to say that this man, Severus, wouldn't betray him, either?

He was brought back to the present when he felt Severus sway dangerously. Just how _much_ did he have to drink before Raymond had arrived at the bar?

Suddenly, Severus sprinted back to that bush, and Raymond heard him retch again. The criminal winced at the sound, recalling the nights when he'd find himself with his head in the toilet basin. Before he knew what he was doing, he was whipping out his burner and calling a cab to pick the both of them up. It was a good thing it was Friday because Severus hadn't even had a chance to tell Raymond where he taught, and he knew the other man wasn't in a state to return to his school.

As soon as the line went dead, Raymond hurried to Severus's side and placed a hand on his back like he had just half an hour previous.

"That's it, just get all that out of your system," soothed the American softly. In that moment, Raymond was reminded of his daughter, Jennifer. God, he missed her. He remembered how, whenever she had a stomach bug, he'd instantly be at her side to help her get all the toxins out of her stomach. He could still remember the spattered blood he had come home to in that fateful Christmas Eve — _her_ blood. Carla's blood. Raymond choked a bit at that, but he kept himself together before the emotional dam could break. The comforting rubs he had given Jennifer had never failed to make her smile.

Sometimes, he wished he could be there for his living daughter, Elizabeth, so he could give her the same amount of love he had given to Jennifer. However, he knew that if she was to be safe, she wouldn't be able to even know of his existence.

At that moment, he was immensely grateful that he had young Dembe by his side. Even if he wasn't biologically his, for all intents and purposes, Dembe Zuma was his son. He had found him half-dead, chained to a pipe in the basement of a brothel in Nairobi. He remembered the burn he had felt in his eyes as he saw that child look to him, silently pleading for mercy. Dembe's face had instantly lit up when Raymond had begun working to unchain him.

Raymond remained by Severus's side until he heard the hum of a car engine from behind.

"Come on, we're going back to my place."

At that, Severus jumped up.

"No, that won't be necessary. I — I can get back —"

"Nonsense!" Raymond cut across him. "You're drunk, which means you're _clearly_ not in a state to —"

But before the criminal could finish his sentence, his hands instinctively flew to his ears as a loud crack resounded.

When Raymond opened his eyes, he barely kept his jaw from dropping open at the realization that Severus had… _disappeared_. Into thin air. It was as if the other man hadn't been there at all. He immediately knew that he'd simply _have_ to tell Dembe about all this once he got back to the hotel.

The criminal hastily got into the cab when the cab driver yelled from the driver's seat, "Are you comin' or not?" Once he was comfortable, the car started moving.

As Raymond gazed at the rapidly moving landscape, he wondered if he would ever see Severus again. Normally, he wouldn't wonder that about anyone else since he knew, with his various connections, he could find virtually any person he wanted to. But something told him that finding Severus wouldn't be easy. After all, it wasn't like everyone could somehow shoot fire and water from the same magical piece of wood. Raymond had no doubt that there were more people with Severus's special abilities, but he also knew there was a reason Severus was the only one he'd seen perform such spells.

It was a while before Raymond reached the lavish hotel he was staying at. Thanking the cab driver and giving him an extra tip, he wrapped his overcoat tightly around himself and went inside.

Raymond sighed as the indoor heating made its way to his face. It had been a very cold night, and all he could think about was checking up on his young charge to see if he had completed all his calculus and chemistry assignments. Knowing Dembe, he'd be doing extra practice because he'd have finished his work hours ago. Raymond grinned at the reminder of how _dedicated_ Dembe was to learning everything he could. He sometimes wished that he had been as dedicated as Dembe currently was. Then maybe he wouldn't be here, killing people to keep himself, Elizabeth, and Dembe safe.

Once Raymond reached the room he and Dembe were sharing, he took his keycard from one of his many pockets and unlocked the door.

He smiled softly as he peeked inside and saw Dembe kneeling on his prayer mat, praying earnestly. Another interesting thing about the young South Sudanese boy was that he was a devout Muslim. In the three years Raymond had raised him, he learned a lot of things about Islam that he otherwise wouldn't have known had he not taken Dembe in. Raymond made sure to be as silent as he could so he wouldn't disturb him. The only sound that indicated the criminal was there was a light click of the door closing.

Raymond glanced at the papers on the small desk near the window, and he felt a swell of pride when he saw the completed worksheets. Dembe's handwriting was just getting better and better with each passing day, and so was his English. Soon, it would be as if Dembe had spoken English all his life.

As soon as Dembe finished up his nightly prayers, he turned and smiled at Raymond's presence.

"Hello, Raymond."

"I see you've completed all your assignments for today. Excellent job!" praised the criminal. He felt great excitement at the prospect of checking Dembe's work the next morning. For the young boy's education, Raymond had enlisted Kate's help. Kathryn Nemec, otherwise known as Mr. Kaplan, was Raymond's cleaner and Elizabeth's former nanny. She was the one who hid all the bodies of the people he killed and the one who removed their blood from every crime scene. Kate was also Raymond's rock. He was grateful for the fact that she wasn't afraid to be honest with him, even if she knew it would hurt.

"How was the bar? Did you find what you were looking for?" asked Dembe, padding over to sit next to his foster father.

"No," admitted Raymond, "but I found something else that I think is absolutely _fascinating_."

"What was it?"

With a wide grin, Raymond launched into his tale of what had happened between him and Severus, recounting the drinks and even the confrontation that had happened outside. He was slightly afraid Dembe would think he was crazy when he got to the part of Severus's magic, but he was relieved when the boy just raised his eyebrows in wonder. Dembe appeared to be as curious as Raymond had been when Severus had asked him whether he had seen a man perform magic before.

"That is very interesting, Raymond. Do you think you will be able to find him?"

Raymond shrugged slightly.

"I'm not too sure, Dembe. If he can disappear into thin air like he did, then I don't think he'll have any records, either. He called me a 'Muggle.' I'm assuming that means people who can't do magic."

"I think so, too," murmured Dembe thoughtfully. "We should get to sleep."

"Yes, we should," agreed Raymond tiredly, glancing at the clock. It was past midnight. "You go brush your teeth, and I'll take a shower after that."

Dembe nodded in assent and headed to the bathroom, and Raymond took this time to reflect on the last words they had exchanged:

" _How do you know that?_ "

" _Because…the life I had imagined isn't the life that I am currently living, either._ "

Severus was a teacher at a boarding school, yet he saw children die. He had said that he understood the criminal's pain because of this. Raymond had to admit that he was at a loss of possible answers to why Severus experienced what he did. None of it made any sense to him. Raymond could usually read someone at a first glance, but Severus was an enigma.

In this deep thought, he didn't realize that he had drifted off until he felt Dembe's gentle hand on his shoulder, beckoning him back to the world of the living.

…

 _All he could hear was a relentless pecking. It was louder than a clock. Raymond wondered where this irritating sound was coming from. The room he was in was brightly-lit; the light was almost blinding. It was then that he realized he was dreaming, and he felt his eyelids opening_ …

Raymond picked his head up and lifted a hand to his eyebrow to block out the sunlight pouring in. His head felt tight. It was probably because of that noise. Speaking of which…

"The pecking," he murmured groggily. He swung his legs out of the bed and threw his blanket off, trudging his way to the window. He couldn't find the energy to laugh as he saw an owl pecking it relentlessly. He unlatched the window lock and let the bird in; it flew straight to the room desk and perched itself on the desk lamp. It was then that he noticed something tied to its right talon: an envelope.

Raymond looked back to see if the pecking had roused Dembe from his sleep. Thankfully, it hadn't, and his young charge continued to slumber the morning away.

The criminal walked over and carefully untied the envelope from the owl, feeding the bird one of the potato chips from a half-eaten bag he had gotten a few days before at a nearby drugstore. He wondered whether this was a new aspect of magic that he'd be learning today. Raymond chuckled as the owl gave him an affectionate nip on his finger and flew back to the window to perch on it, leaving him to open and examine the contents of this unknown package.

On the back, it had his first name on it. Below that, it read, "Also known as 'Red.'" So not only was Severus intelligent, he was also very observant.

Turning it over, he found that it was sealed with red wax. In the wax, there was a coat of arms along with the name of the school (Hogwarts) and its motto (" _Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus_ ").

"Never tickle a sleeping dragon," Raymond read to himself, quirking his eyebrows. He opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of yellowed parchment. Then, he began reading the letter, which was written in a very cramped fashion:

> _Dear Raymond,_
> 
> _Thank you for being with me for both of the times I vomited. It helped, knowing someone was there to make sure I emptied the contents of my stomach appropriately._
> 
> _I'd also like to apologize for leaving so abruptly. What you saw me do is called Apparition. It teleports a person from one place to another. In order to Apparate, you must close your eyes and form a clear mental picture of your destination before pivoting._
> 
> _Lastly, while I appreciate you trying to help me by offering your home last night, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I have been doing that from the moment I was brought onto the Earth._
> 
> _Suffice to say, I would like to meet you properly and have a conversation that does not stem from consuming too much alcohol._
> 
> _If it would be no trouble, please meet me near the playground in Holland Park at 4pm. Maybe we can have dinner. Lord knows you will be able to afford a seven-course dinner for seven._
> 
> _Write me your response on the back of this letter. Then, send it off with the owl who delivered it to you._
> 
> _Sincerely,  
> _ _Severus Snape  
> _ _Potions Master of Hogwarts  
> _ _Head of Slytherin House_

Raymond had to admit that Severus was probably worse in regards to honesty than Kate was, and he didn't even know him too well. Raymond also thought it interesting that Severus was very formal in his writing. It felt so… _stiff_. It was almost as if Severus were writing to a CEO of a company with an offer and wanted to make a good first impression. Not that Raymond would _know_ of such letters, but it was a good guess in his opinion.

Turning over the letter, Raymond proceeded to grab a pen and write a reply, commenting on how he wanted to meet as well and how he found Severus's brutal honesty endearing and a bit humbling. After he was finished, he tied the note to the patient owl and sent it on its way.

Raymond turned around at the susurrus of sheets from behind him, and he couldn't help the smile that made its way to his features as Dembe sat up.

"Morning, Dembe. Sleep well?"

"I did. And you?"

Raymond nodded, running a hand through his hair. He groaned lightly at the multitude of tangles, swearing to himself that one day, he'd shave it all off and never worry again. It was so damn annoying for him to maintain his wavy hair. Unfortunately, it was also stylish and played a part in his charm, and he needed it if he wanted to make his way up in the criminal underworld. Maybe, when he grew older, a shaved look would better suit him, but for now, he'd have to deal with the difficulties of caring for his hair.

"Severus sent me a letter. Apparently, they use owls to deliver them."

"Do they train them like the American government trained pigeons?"

Raymond gave Dembe a noncommittal shrug. "I'm not sure. Maybe they have magical animals as well as spells. Who knows?"

"That makes sense."

"Go get washed up. I'll order room service." Raymond walked over and placed a fatherly hand on Dembe's shoulder as he said this.

"All right, Raymond."

As he watched Dembe get up to brush his teeth, he made his way back to the desk and picked up the desk phone to order their breakfast.

…

Severus gripped his fork tightly, taking a bite out of his sausage as he observed the students in front of him, especially Draco.

He looked so pale…so _old_. Pity overtook the professor as he turned to gaze at Dumbledore's blackened hand. Severus had many things to do that day, so he greatly looked forward to seeing Raymond in the evening — _if_ the man accepted, that was.

The thought of Draco suddenly brought immense anger about. That stupid _boy_! When Potter had told him and Minerva he suspected Draco of being the cause of Bell touching a cursed necklace, he had seen red. Of course, he had kept his frustration reined in.

Later, Severus had demanded that Draco come to see him in his office. He had given the boy a tirade disguised as a lecture before sending him to bed on a horribly negative note. That was when he had realized he needed a break, so he had decided that going to a Muggle bar in London was the best solution.

Looking back at the headmaster, the professor desperately wanted to know what Dumbledore and Potter did in those meetings of theirs. So far, they had had one. Some might say Severus felt an inkling of envy towards the boy, but that was a very small factor in his desire for knowledge. The feeling was more like a sense of entitlement rather than instinctive jealousy. Dumbledore had said that he didn't want to put all his eggs in one basket, but it was still infuriating. Severus was the headmaster's most important soldier, yet he was trusted with the least information.

He barely noticed when the plates popped away, and he mechanically stood up and started to walk with Dumbledore back to his office.

"Are you all right?" asked Dumbledore gently once they were alone, placing a hand on Severus's shoulder. The latter knew it was unusual for him to simply follow the headmaster, but he knew he'd have to let him know that he'd be making a trip to London.

Before he could answer, however, he saw an owl zoom towards them and drop a slightly crumpled piece of parchment into Severus's hands.

"You can see me later," said Dumbledore, noticing the sudden excitement in Severus's posture. "For now, I suggest you check what has been sent to you." With a twinkle in his sharp blue eyes, the headmaster left.

Anticipation bubbling in his stomach, Severus looked down, and he was pleased to see that it was the letter he had sent Raymond early that morning.

He turned it over, and he couldn't help the quiet laugh that made its way to his lips as he read the response:

> _Yeah, I'll be there. I look forward to it!_
> 
> — _R_
> 
> _P.S. Your brutal honesty is very endearing and humbling._

Grinning, Severus stuffed the letter in his pocket.

His day had just become a little brighter.

…

Raymond adjusted his rose-tinted sunglasses as he swept the park area for an empty bench. He had nearly debated bringing his gun, but he had rolled his eyes at his own wavering judgment. Just because Severus could do magic that could inflict more damage than his weapon, it didn't mean he'd go without it. For all he knew, Severus would bail on him, and he would have to go back and pretend none of this had happened.

One thing Raymond didn't need to debate on was bringing Dembe with him. Even if Severus was trustworthy, he couldn't trust himself to protect the young boy if the other man tried anything. Though he had been killing people for nearly ten years, it still made him sick inside. Just the idea of the man he had become was sickening. Raymond always had great difficulty separating the human from the monster whenever he put a bullet in someone's head. Kate continually reminded him that those people weren't innocent, and even though what he did was horribly wrong, it was usually the lesser of the two evils presented before him.

The reassurances never helped.

Raymond knew in his heart that he was rapidly becoming a monster if he wasn't one already. He just hoped that, by the time his duty to Elizabeth would be fulfilled, there would be some semblance of humanity left in him. But he doubted that he'd be lucky enough to be able to have his cake and eat it, too.

Finally spotting an empty bench near a group of small kids running around a large jungle gym shaped like a rocket, Raymond tightened his muffler and lowered it past his chin as he made his way over there. He settled on the right side of the bench and crossed his legs. It wouldn't do for people to think he was an old man there to feed the birds. His appearance, along with his choice of clothes, already suggested he was quite a bit older than forty — even though he was only thirty-six.

Almost an hour passed in which Raymond waited for Severus. Though it was very tempting to get up and walk around, the criminal refused to move. As a result, his bum started aching horribly, and that led him to start squirming and readjusting his position every once in a while.

 _Good Lord, how long is that man gonna make me wait?_ Raymond thought irritably. For goodness's sake, it had been _Severus_ who had set up the when-and-where, not him. Why would he be late to his own appointment?

After about another hour had passed, Raymond had to give up. He was especially sad because he knew he couldn't stay in London any longer. Since he was a fugitive, he had to move somewhere else. Maybe he could find another hotel in England that was closer to Scotland. His chances of seeing Severus again would definitely be higher if he went with that option. The problem was that Raymond would have to head to Italy next week so he could sell a package of very valuable guns to a notorious arms dealer named Enzo Marotta. Because of that, his time was limited. Sighing at his bad luck, he got off of the bench and began heading back to the hotel.

Unbeknownst to Raymond, however, Severus was absent not because he forgot about their meeting or because he didn't really mean what he had said in the letter.

He was absent because he was being tortured.


End file.
